


But Your Heart Had to Roam

by wildwinterwitch



Series: Driftwood [7]
Category: Broadchurch, True Love (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Series 1 Episode 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwinterwitch/pseuds/wildwinterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holly tries to cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Your Heart Had to Roam

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Driftwood" by Travis.

Paul caught up with her as she stood at the small reception desk, wondering whether it would be okay to take one of the envelopes and a notecard from the box to leave Alec a message. Her hasty departure must have left him feeling rejected and humiliated, particularly after what had happened, but she’d needed to get away. Quickly. But now there was no going back; he’d likely be asleep or in the shower, or so hurt he wouldn’t open the door for her.

She closed her fingers around the piece of sea glass in her pocket.

“Hey. You still here?” he asked.

Holly wondered if he could smell the sex on her. Probably.

“Becca and I are just about done in there. Give me ten minutes and I’ll give you a lift home,” he said.

“Ah, that’s kind of you, Paul, but I think I’d rather walk. It’s such a beautiful night.”

“Have you been in there all this time, chatting?” he asked, gesturing at the bar.

“Yeah.” Warmth suffused her stomach at the memory of Alec driving into her. Not exactly chatting, that. Not exactly best form, lying to a vicar, but he was just Paul right now. He’d removed the piece of white collar and undone a button. She might just as easily ask the same of him.

“Didn’t have him down as the most sociable fellow. He seems a bit rough around the edges.”

Holly fingered the shard in her pocket. “I think he’s a good listener.”

“Hmm. Of course, you’ve not met him as the detective he is. Or have you?”

“No, no, I haven’t. Danny wasn’t in my class.”

“Ah. How are you coping?”

Holly smiled bravely. She still felt unstable, and if she gave in she’d break down and be here all night. “I’m all right. Umm. Shouldn’t you…?”

“Oh yes, of course. Sorry,” he smiled and went into the bar to pick up some of the papers they’d left there. Holly took a notecard and an envelope and borrowed a pen.

_Dear Alec,_

_Sorry for fleeing as I did. It wasn’t your fault. I’ve had a wonderful time with you, I really did, but I couldn’t possibly stay with you, not tonight. There are things that I have to work through._

_What about a walk on the beach, when the crowds are gone and you have some time to spare? We might find one of these_

She didn’t know what possessed her to include Alec in the very private pastime that she and Karen had shared, but somehow it felt right to do so.

_Please do not hide from me. I’m sorry I did._

_Love,_

_Holly x_

She added her mobile number as a post script and slid the card and the shard into the envelope. She wrote his name on it and left the note on the desk, where Becca would find it and pass it on to him.

It wasn’t much, but it was the best she could do at the moment. That, and hope and that Alec would accept her gift as a peace offering.

-:-

He never called.

She saw him through the window of the staff room once, standing on the opposite side of the road, staring at the school. As soon as he spotted her, prompted by her wave, he turned around and walked away. 

The next day, the horrible article appeared in the newspaper. She had to admit that the photo that went with worst-cop headline was a good one, though. She wondered if she should keep it, but decided against it. She left the newspaper on the table in the staff room, where she’d found it.

Then the summer holidays started, and she went on the trip she and Karen had booked — as something to look forward to — anyway. Two weeks in Italy, holed up in a love nest somewhere in Piedmont, where it was quiet but not too remote.

She thought about Karen and cried a lot and raged even more; even went to confession once. The old priest probably didn’t understand her, but he let her talk anyway, and dismissed her with a benign sound in his voice and a penance she didn’t catch. She lit a candle for Alec, and one for Karen, and left a donation for the church’s restoration. Then she stepped outside into the bright sunlight, pulling the scarf she’d worn off her shoulders.

Still, the tears came at night, for Karen. She had text messages from friends, but never from Alec. Inexplicably, there were more tears.


End file.
